Erotic provocateur, racially-influenced humanist, relentless champion for the oppressed, and facilitator for social change, Scottie Lowe is the brain child, creative genius and the blood, sweat, and tears behind AfroerotiK. Intended to be part academic, part educational, and part sensual, she, yes SHE gave birth to the website to provide people of African descent a place to escape the narrow-mined, stereotypical, limiting and oft-times degrading beliefs that abound about our sexuality. No, not all Black men are driven by lust by white flesh or to create babies and walk away. No, not all Black women are promiscuous welfare queens. And as hard as it may be to believe, no, not all gay Black men are feminine, down low, or HIV positive. Scottie is putting everything on the table to discuss, debate, and dismantle stereotypes in a healthy exchange of ideas. She hopes to provide a more holistic, informed, and enlightened discussion of Black sexuality and dreams of helping couples be more open, honest, and adventurous in their relationships.

Monday, February 24, 2014

Taking it to the Hole

“Let’s head over to West 4th for a pickup game, whadda ya say?”  It was a hot summer New York night, the kind where it doesn’t dip below 80 degrees and anyone and everyone is out and about, looking for something to do. The idea sounded like a great one to Ernesto; his friends, however, weren’t as enthusiastic. 

“Whadda ya fucking crazy?  It’s fucking hot as fuck.  What the fuck do I want to fucking go all the way to fucking Manhattan for a fucking game of fucking basketball to further sweat my big, hairy fucking balls off at 10 o’clock at fucking night?  Are you fucking kidding me?”  Ernesto’s cousin Vinny had the vocabulary of a Soprano and the basketball skills of a third grade girl so there was no way in hell he was gonna go anywhere to play basketball at any time.  He needed to play it off so he went on and on about how hot it was and about how it was too far to travel.  The rest of the gang; Tony A., Tony M., and Joey, weren’t the worst basketball players in the world but they certainly knew enough to know that if they were going to go to W.4th Street for a pickup game, they would get spanked.  They all moaned about how hot it was and dismissed the idea. 

Ernesto couldn’t be dissuaded so easily.  It was a hot Saturday night and he knew the courts would be packed.  He needed to go.  He just couldn’t see himself hanging out in the neighborhood, drinking 40s out of a brown paper bag, talking about bangin’ girls, listening to Tupac, and bitching about over how hard it is to be a white man in today’s society.  Ernesto was different.  Born in Tuscany, he’d moved to Brooklyn when he was 11 to live with his aunt and uncle when his parents died in a car crash.  Twenty years later, he had lost his foreign accent but never quite acquired a New York one either.  He stood out like a sore thumb in so many ways.  He was the most worldly of the group always looking to experience new adventures, he’d even gone to out of state for college.  Most of the guys around the way had never gotten past high school, let alone moved out of state.  Truth be told, a few had never even been to the Bronx.  He had a great job in Manhattan as a massage therapist; his friends thought that was some fairy shit.  It was okay when his clients were hot chicks but they were disgusted by the idea of him rubbing on some sweaty dude.  Ernesto even looked different.  His complexion was naturally darker, his jet black hair just touched his shoulders, steel gray eyes, and a 6’2” body he worked on religiously all worked together to make him look like a Calvin Klein model.   Most of his buddies stood about 5’10” with short hair and were getting beer bellies in their 30s. 

For all of their differences, Ernesto was accepted and loved in the community like he was no different at all.  And he loved his family and his friends.  They had taken care of him when he was at his lowest, most lonely point.  While most people anticipated he would have gotten an apartment in Manhattan, Ernesto stayed in the neighborhood to help take care of his grandmother who had come from Italy 10 years ago because she was aging.  His aunt and uncle both worked graveyard and didn’t have the time to care for her in the evenings and Vinny and Theresa, his other cousin, only knew how to curse in Italian so they couldn’t really communicate well with her.  Ernesto loved his family and would do anything for them so leaving Brooklyn, leaving Carnasie, was really out of the question. 

“I’ll check you guys later, I’m heading to the city to play some ball.”  Nobody was shocked and they barely looked up as Ernesto grabbed his gym bag and headed for the subway.  He plopped down on the cool seat and pulled out the book he’d been reading, a collection of works by James Baldwin.  He was fascinated by the social commentary and the descriptions of racism that peppered the dialogue about being a Black gay man in America.  Being a gay man himself, a closeted gay man, he connected with the words, he connected with the struggle and the rage.  His friends, even though he had sucked off most of them when they were younger, including his cousin, were as homophobic as they come.  They had to be.  It was part and parcel for the good fella’s persona that they had to carry off.  It never occurred to them that Ernesto could be gay because he was masculine, athletic, and he had women swooning over him every time he walked in a room.  The stuff that happened when they were younger was just boys being boys, and they would never admit it to anyone the experimentation they had done as kids so his secret was pretty safe. 

As he emerged from the bowels of the train system, into the humid night air of Greenwich Village, except for the fact that it was dark, it could have been 11:00 in the afternoon instead of 11:00 at night.  The streets were bustling with activity, packed with people out doing anything and everything you could think of.  He made his way to the courts and just watched the first two games.  Ever since he could remember, he’d loved Black men.  As cliché as it sounds, after his first Black lover, he had no desire to be with another white man again so the old “once you go black” adage was true in his case.  For the better part of 7 years he’d dated Black men exclusively.  Sitting there, seeing all of those toned and muscled bodies, gave him an even further appreciation of the Black male form.  It wasn’t a lustful appreciation, well, at least not in the overtly sexual sense.  It was a profound and deep respect for not just their physical bodies, but for the struggle they endured that he read about in the pages of his book. 

There’s an unspoken code that says that white boys who hang out on basketball courts are looking to get served so people were always looking to school them and make sure they play.  Three on three, half court, to 21, shirt vs. skins.  Ernesto was shirts and he was playing the team who had just won the last game.  Skins got the ball first and scored three points right off the bat.  He was guarding a guy who had dominated the previous game and he knew he had to be tired so he was body-checking and going toe to toe under the rim.  They were the same height, even the same body type, but his opponent was the color of caramel with a shiny bald head.  It was a queer guy’s heaven, being able to publicly run his hands over that smooth flesh, the rippling muscles, sweaty, hard thighs pressed against his own.  It was all about the game for Ernesto and he played hard, making sure everyone knew he was there to ball.  The guy Ernesto was guarding gave him an elbow and sent him to the ground.  There ain’t no fouls in street ball so he was right back up and in the game; he didn’t miss a beat.   He got the ball and showed he had some skills.  The other part of the unspoken code is, that when a white boy has skills on the court, he becomes the unofficial court favorite, getting his own cheering squad on the sidelines n’ everything. 

The score was 19 to 20 with the skins leading and the shirts had the ball.  Dude was blocking him, checking him hard, when Ernesto got the ball in the paint.  He pivoted and -- whoosh, nothing but net.  In the split second right before the shot, he thought . . . maybe he was mistaken, but he could have sworn he felt ole boy grabbing for his cock.  Not just body contact that happens during the course of a game, but actually palming his crotch, almost caressing it.  It happened so quickly and the score was tied so he couldn’t dwell on it.  The two adversaries stood toe to toe, making intense eye contact.  The court lights made every drop of sweat glisten on his opponent’s shirtless body.  One of the other skins sank the final shot ending the game.  The entire court erupted in cheers and back-slapping and kudos about the great game. 

Ernesto sat on the bench and pulled out his towel.  His book was on the top of the bag so he sat it next to him.  While he was toweling off and catching his breath, drinking a little Gatorade, he saw a hand reaching out to him.

“Good game man, I’m impressed.” 

He extended his hand and looked up, “Yeah, congratulations, great game,” Ernesto replied, still trying to catch his breath. 

“Name’s Flex.  Anytime you want to play a little game of pick up, let me know, I’d love to have you on my team.”  He smiled a gorgeous smile and Ernesto looked up and then down, his eyes resting on the crotch directly eye level in front of him. 

“Your mom named you Flex,” Ernesto asked, trying to sound aloof but still out of breath and doing his best not to show it. 

“My pops named me Eugene, Jr. but I’ll beat somebody’s ass if they call me that.  So it’s Flex.”  They both laughed.

“Yeah, my name is Ernesto and we got problems if anyone calls me Ernie, so I’m really feeling you.  Here have a seat.”  He moved his book out the way and slid down a half a foot to let Flex sit down next to him.  They watched a little bit of the next game in silence. 

“You from around here,” Flex asked? 

“Nah, I live in Brooklyn,”

“Oh, I see.” 

That sat in silence some more, watching the game and neither one of them willing to address what had happened on the court.  Ernesto figured he’d been mistaken.  It was a physical game and maybe Flex didn’t know he was grabbing his cock.  Maybe he thought it was his arm or something.  That had to be it. 

“”Is this your book?  Man, I love James Baldwin.  ‘I am what time, circumstance, and history, have made of me, certainly, but I am also, much more than that.’  Now that some deep shit right there.”  Just then, it was as if the wall of ice had been broken.  The two men started talking and sharing and letting down their guards. They had a connection more than sports and it was electric. “Are you busy right now, I mean, are you in a rush to head back to Brooklyn, because I only live around the corner from here.  We can go to my place and hang out if you want.  I’m not a serial killer . . . any more, I promise.”  They both laughed and Flex flashed that gorgeous smile again and before Ernesto knew what was happening, they were walking towards 10th street and in a cute little studio apartment.  Flex was a graphic designer for an advertising firm and had moved from his own roots in Queens to his little apartment 7 years ago. 

Once inside the apartment, the only place to sit comfortably was the futon.  Ernesto looked uncomfortable.  He didn’t want to put his smelly, sweaty ass on the place where Flex slept and sat on a daily basis.  He was really feeling this guy and wanted to be invited back and he didn’t think that would make such a great first impression to leave his scent, so to speak, so he was trying to figure out how he could sit on the floor without looking like a dork. 

Flex came to the rescue before he could even process the thought completely in his head.  “Hey, it’s pretty hot out there; you can take a shower if you want to cool off.  Guests first.  Here’s a towel and everything’s in the bathroom you should need.”  Ernesto dropped his gym bag by the door inside in the small bathroom.  He took off his sweaty clothes and stepped in the shower, feeling the warm water wash away the layer of sweat.  Shutting his eyes, he thought back to the court.  Had he gotten his signals mixed?  Maybe Flex was just a nice guy who wanted to hang out; maybe he happened to like James Baldwin because he was a great writer, not because he was a great gay Black writer.  Maybe that hand caressing his cock wasn’t really caressing it; maybe it was just part of the game, maybe to make him miss his shot.  Whatever it was, Ernesto was deep in thought, remembering the feel of Flex’s hand on his cock, the same cock that he had in his hand now and was stroking, thinking about his sexy, sweaty new friend.

He shut his eyes tightly and started thinking all sorts of nasty thoughts, jerking off and fantasizing.  A knock at the door shocked him back to reality.

“Hey, don’t mean to interrupt or anything,” Flex yelled through the door, but do you want something to drink?  A martini, a beer, a glass of wine, water, Kool Aid.  Anything? Iced Tea, maybe?” 

“A beer’s cool, thanks,” he yelled back and quickly turned off the water to dry off.  Ernesto wasn’t trying to put the same stinky clothes back on so he tied the towel around his waist and headed out to see if Flex had anything he could put on.  His cock was still hard but he pushed it down and tried to will it to stay soft. 

That thought lasted an entire 1.5 seconds because when he opened the bathroom door, he saw Flex, standing naked in front of the closet, grabbing for a towel to put around him.  “Hey, how was the shower?”  He turned, wrapped the towel around himself and, not waiting for an answer, he said, “Your beer is on the coffee table, make yourself at home, I’ll be right back, I need to take a shower myself.” 

Ernesto was impressed with the tiny apartment.  Flex’s music collection was eclectic but mostly all Black: jazz, blues, R&B, hip hop, and some gospel.  The art on the walls was amazing and inspecting further, he saw that most were signed with the name Flex.  Because the place was so small, every square inch of space was utilized.  Oddly enough, the place didn’t look cluttered at all; it might have been small on space but it was big on style.  The timer on the oven went off and Flex was still in the shower so he decided to take out whatever was in there.  Opening the oven door, a fantastic aroma came wafting out.  He pulled out the dish and it was some sort of dip that had been heated to go with the tri colored chips that had been put out on a platter.  Ernesto was blown away.  “This guy can play ball, he can quote James Baldwin, he has a great apartment, he’s creative, he can cook, and he’s sexy as hell.  Damn, I think I just met my future husband,” he said under his breath.

“What did you say?  Oh good, I’m glad you pulled that out. Thanks.”  Flex looked even more amazing fresh from the shower with his towel around his waist.  Ernesto didn’t bother answering his question and instead took the tray and set it on the coffee table while Flex was opening up the futon.  “Here, this will be more comfortable.  Have a seat, take a load off.”

The two men lounged on the futon, talking about everything under the sun, sharing details about their lives, drinking beer, listening to music, and eating.  It was soon very apparent that Flex was gay, out, and very confident in his sexuality, so much so, he didn’t even make it an issue.  Because Ernesto had been ruled by his hidden identity, everything had more impact on him, he had to analyze and dissect everything as if there was a hidden meaning behind it.  When Flex offered to let him spend the night, he didn’t know if it was a sexual invitation or not; he didn’t know how to respond. 

Flex could sense his hesitation and he left the question open for him to decide.  He got up, turned off all the lights, lit a few candles and came back, this time, taking off his towel and letting it fall to the floor.  He stood there for a few seconds, letting his new friend take everything in.  “Does this make you uncomfortable?”  Ernesto shook his head but didn’t say a word.  He climbed back on the futon, this time even closer.    His heart started beating faster, the blood started pumping in his veins; he was being seduced.  Flex reached out to kiss him softly; Ernesto forgot to close his eyes; he wanted to see everything.  The kiss was soft and gentle and in many ways atypical of most of kisses Ernesto had ever shared with someone.  Usually the men he was with were closeted, intent on proving their masculinity, on dominating the proverbial white boi behind closed doors, playing up the thug/Mandingo role.  He let his eyes close gently, experiencing the kiss with the rest of his senses.  He could smell the clean scent of Flex’s skin, still fresh from the shower; he could feel the softness of his lips against his own.  He could taste his tongue gently exploring his mouth and he could hear the soft moan escape from his own lips in awe of the sensations he was feeling. 

 “Okay, Mr. Massage therapist,” Flex said, “let me check out some of your magic,” as he pulled away from the sensual kiss.  He stretched out on his stomach, adding, “Let’s see if you can work out some of this tension I have in my shoulders.”

Ernesto said, “Hold on, let me get my bag.” He returned a few seconds later with a special blend of massage oil he used for work.  This time, he also took off his towel and let it fall to the floor as well, exposing his cock that had been half hard since they left the courts.  Flex didn’t even look, he had his head resting on his arms and his eyes closed, waiting for his massage.  Ernesto straddled his legs and looked down at the gorgeous body he was about to caress.  He warmed the oil on his hands and started at the shoulders, aroused by the contrast in skin colors.  Flex let out a moan and shifted a little but he didn’t say a word.  Working his way downwards, he found the spots that were tight and loosened them; he rubbed the sore muscles and left that smooth brown skin glowing in the candlelight.  He worked his way further down, hesitating for a few moments before he started massaging the full, round ass cheeks of his new friend.  Flex let out more of a moan and started grinding his hips, even adjusting himself to make his thickening tool more comfortable under him.  Grabbing the bottle of oil, he drizzled it on his skin and started massaging those magnificent mounds of flesh.  He wanted to stroke his own cock, now fully erect, but he didn’t, he was intent on doing a good job, better than he’d ever done before. 

He worked his way down Flex’s thighs and even used a few reflexology techniques on his feet.  “Here, do the fronts of my legs now, I’m sore from that workout you gave me earlier.”  He turned over and Ernesto couldn’t move.  Flex flashed that gorgeous smile yet again but that paled in comparison to the body of perfection before him.  Shoulders that were broad leading down to muscular toned arms, a hairless, well-developed chest and six pack abs that looked like a washboard.  His dick stood up straight and tall and his balls were resting on his thighs.  Ernesto didn’t even want to look at the rest of him; he just wanted to drink in the beauty of that magnificent hard dick. 

Flex teased him, stroking it casually with his other arm behind his head.  “You like that?  Go ahead, touch it.”  He put his other arm behind his head and repeated, “Go ahead, it won’t bite.”

Ernesto swallowed hard and held the shaft in his hands.  The heat from it was incredible and the thickness was impressive to say the least.  He grabbed it at the base and brought his hand all the way to the top, twisting his hand just a bit for a little more stimulation.  Flex moaned his approval and licked his lips.  “Don’t stop,” was all he said.  Putting more oil on his hands, Ernesto started stroking more, bringing him to full hardness, coaxing out precum from the head of that delicious piece of meat. 
“Go ahead, suck it, you know you want to, suck my dick.”  The confidence that oozed from Flex made the situation that much more intense, more erotic and Ernesto felt light headed.  He wasn’t being rude or domineering, he was just sure of himself, uninhibited. 

Ernesto positioned himself between Flex’s legs, stroking him some more, teasing him, and Flex spread his legs to accommodate him.  Fingering his balls and holding them up, he started his mouth job there, licking and gently sucking his nuts.  Rolling them around in his fingers, he was getting them wet with saliva and licking the sensitive sacks.  Flex appreciated the attention to his balls and let him know how good it felt.    “Oh shit, it’s been a long time since someone paid attention to my nuts like that.  Damn, that feels so good. Ohhhh yeah.”  He grabbed his knees, pulled them to his chest, giving Ernesto better access.  Stopping momentarily to catch his breath, he put one testicle in his mouth and started flicking his tongue back and forth rapidly.  Flex could barely breathe it felt so good.  “Damn, if you suck my balls that good, I can’t even imagine how good it’s going to feel when you suck my dick and eat my ass.”

Anxious to get to both of those tasks, he said, “Which of those things would you prefer I do first?”  Flex’s dick jumped at those words, his mind reeling with all the erotic possibilities. 

Flex grabbed his dick at the base, tapping the head against Ernesto’s lips, teasing him.  His instructions were clear.  “Suck my dick.” 

Not needing any more of an invitation, Ernesto set about his task.  He replaced Flex’s hand with his own and started stroking it, using massage techniques to stimulate spots that would make Michelangelo's David squirm.  Using his tongue, he began softly licking the head, swirling it around and flicking it gently at the hole.  Flex moved his hands down to Ernesto’s head, but not to face fuck him or force him down on his swollen member, but to hold his hair out of the way in order to see the expert job he was doing.  He licked up and down the sides, getting the shaft wet, running his tongue over every vein.  Flex couldn’t help but show his appreciation by moaning.  Lowering his mouth on that beautiful column of flesh, he took just half of it in his mouth.  He started sucking it like a baby would suck a nipple making sure to grip the base of the cock firmly in his hand.  He took his tongue and started swirling it around the head and shaft and increasing the suction on his sucking.  Moving his hand away, he started bobbing up and down on the cock, taking it further and further into his mouth each time.  He was getting it wetter and wetter, taking the head to the back of his throat.  Flex could do nothing but grip the sheets for dear life and moan, “Holy fuck, damn, shit, that’s some good shit.  Oh my god that feels so good.” 

Just when he thought it couldn’t feel any better, Ernesto relaxed his throat muscles and let the head of Flex’s thick cock go several inches down.  His lips could feel the tickle of his hair so he knew he had accomplished his mission of taking his full length.  Then, he decided to perform his magic, he started bobbing up and down, from the head to the base, taking him deep in his throat every time.  Spit was dripping down his balls and Flex was breathing so hard he thought he might hyperventilate. 

“Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.  I can’t take much more of that.  Damn, where did you . . . oh shit, you are going to make me cum before the party even starts.”  Flex sat up a little bit and the look of sheer panic on Ernesto’s face was evident.  “Hey, what’s wrong?  What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“I just wanted to make you feel good, that’s all.”  What he really wanted to say was, “I am used to guys using my mouth as many times as they want and I feel like I’ve failed if I didn’t make you cum.” 

“You did make me feel good.  Too good in fact, that was incredible.  I just didn’t want to nut too soon.  I like to make things last, go slow, you know.”  He leaned over and kissed Ernesto again, as gently and as tenderly as before.  Flex lay down on the bed, pulling Ernesto on top of him.  Their kissing became more urgent, more passionate.  Their tongues and lips were sucking and licking, their dicks were sensually rubbing against one another.  Flex was caressing his hands along Ernesto’s spine, grabbing his ass, spreading his cheeks and teasing his hole with his fingertips. 

Ready to take things to the next level, Ernesto said, “I want to feel your big cock in my ass.  Fuck me.”  Quickly repositioning himself, he crawled to the foot of the bed, got on his knees, and looked back over his shoulder and said in a lust-filled daze, “Fuck me.”  He gripped the frame of the futon tightly, prepared to get his asshole savagely fucked but what he felt was entirely different than the searing pain/pleasure he was anxiously anticipating.  “Nooo,” he hollered out. 

Flex had repositioned himself as well.  He was laying between Ernesto’s thighs underneath him and started sucking his dick.  He wrapped his arms around Ernesto’s back and held him in place while he delivered some equally spectacular head to his new lover.  Try as he might, Ernesto could not pull away and he felt his body succumb to the oral pleasures he was receiving.  “No, no, no, no,” was all he could say.  He thought to himself, “Can’t he tell that I’m a bottom whose only use and purpose is to serve and please?”  Flex was fucking with the entire fabric of the universe.  Ernesto was in the closet and he was sub to Black men, meaning he got his pleasure, alone, in the solitude of his bed in shame and in silence, long after the sexual experience was over, reliving it in his mind, jerking off to how he had pleased his lover, how he had been the perfect bottom, never expecting any pleasure in return whatsoever.  Flex couldn’t hear any of that internal dialogue; all he was doing was focusing on tasting Ernesto’s dripping precum and returning the sensual favor. 

The roles had changed again, this time with Ernesto trying to change the direction of things.  He was able to pull away and this time he lay back on the bed and spread his legs, holding them up and pleading with his new lover to be fucked.  “Ram that big dick in my pussy, fuck me hard.  FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF ME.  Come on, daddy, I need it so bad. Pound that meat in my slutty asshole and make me beg for more.  I’ll be your little whore and your bitch daddy.  Spit on that hole and make it nice and wet and shove that fucker in me and make it hurt.”

What happened next sent a chill of panic and pleasure through Ernesto’s body.  Before he could realize what was happening, he felt the soft, gentle tongue of Flex exploring his hole, kissing it, licking it, tongue fucking it.  He’d never felt that sensation before in his life.  He grabbed his knees and pulled them closer to his chest, exposing his hole even more.  All he could feel was the warm, wet sensation of that probing tongue and while his head wanted to say, “Stop.” His mouth was saying, “Oh shit, that feels so fucking good, don’t you dare stop.”  As many times as he’d rimmed his lovers before, he never imagined that being on the receiving end could feel so damned sexy. 

Flex, inspired by his lover’s words, didn’t disappoint.  He licked and sucked and tongue fucked that hole, making it wet and ready.  He got on his knees and aimed his bloated dick at that sexy hole.  He teased it, teased him, by rubbing his head on that hole.  Just before he pushed it in, he leaned down and whispered in Ernesto’s ear, “I want you so fucking bad.”  They kissed again and Ernesto felt the head of Flex’s cock enter him.  It was slow, steady, calculated and giving him pleasure in every cell of his fucking body.  They were grunting and sweating again as the pace was slow and agonizingly sensual.  Ernesto was being made love to and he knew it.  He used his fingertips to softly explore Flex’s body while the two worked out a rhythm.  Flex stroked, Ernesto squeezed, they fucked each other like gorgeous wild animals.  The pounding became more intense, the stroking harder, deeper.  Their moans grew wilder and their kissing more frenzied. 

Flex pulled out and replaced his dick with his mouth, tonguing out that gaping, well-fucked hole.  Ernesto made a sound that couldn’t be described.  It was the singular most erotic, nasty, sensual feeling he’d had in his life.  He grabbed his cock and started pounding it furiously, ready to spew his load then and there.  Flex had other plans.  Grabbing the bottle of massage oil, he flipped the top open and poured it on Ernesto’s prick.  Ernesto held his breath, almost sure he knew what was going to happen next but terrified to think about it. 

Flex moved into position and straddled his body.  He could feel his cock rubbing between those full, round ass cheeks.  In that moment, in his mind, Ernesto outted himself.  He knew that he could no longer remain in the closet; he realized that he had handicapped himself by not being able to love whomever he wanted freely.  He knew that he could not keep his secret any longer to anyone.  In the darkness of his self-imposed closet, he was a submissive bottom.  In the glaring light of his sexual freedom, he was a man who loved other men.  The feel of his cock penetrating Flex’s tight asshole distracted his revelation.  He felt the ring of Flex’s ass gripping every millimeter of his erection, squeezing it, riding it up and down.  He looked up to see a look of sheer pleasure and ecstasy on his lover’s face, unencumbered by roles of top or bottom, just expressing his sexuality freely and genuinely. 

With his ass settled down on Ernesto’s body, Flex started grinding and working his ass, using his ass muscles to milk that hot cock.  Ernesto grabbed Flex’s hips and started thrusting, fucking him back, working his dick in harder, trying to go deeper.  Flex started bouncing up and down on his dick, riding him hard.  The look on his face was one of pure bliss.  Ernesto shut his eyes and got lost in the sensation, “Oh Flex, I love . . . this, I love this.”  He really wanted to say I love you.  It was as if every fiber of his being wanted to profess his love for the man who was giving him pleasure in ways he’d never imagined. 

Flex leaned down and whispered in his ear, “I love you too.”  Both of them knew it was the lust talking, both of them knew intellectually that it couldn’t be love based on a couple of hours. Both of them knew that there was a connection there that would last well past a one night stand or casual sex as well. 

Using his muscular arms, Ernesto flipped Flex over and placed him on his knees.  Flex looked back and said, “Fuck me, ram that dick in me.”  They both groaned as Ernesto pushed the entire length of his cock in that hot hole and started pounding away.  It was pure, unbridled, sensuous fucking.  He gripped that brown flesh and pulled him closer, he could see the contrast in skin color, the way Flex’s asshole would grip his cock as he slid in and out, faster, harder, deeper, faster still, harder, using every muscle in his body to give pleasure.  He was hitting that hot spot, making Flex moan like a little bitch.  The way his cock felt, surrounded by that hot, tight ring, he was cursing in a string of Italian and English and what seemed like another primal language only understood by lovers. 

He could feel the cum about to explode from his cock.  He began pistoning his cock in and out, harder than he thought he was capable of doing.  Flex was taking it all and begging for more.  He crushed Flex beneath him and used his ass to pump and pound, His fingers intertwined with Flex as he unloaded his cum deep inside him. 

Six months later, Flex and Ernesto stood as a testament to true interracial gay love.  They didn’t flaunt their sexuality but they certainly didn’t hide it either.  All of his friends in Brooklyn disowned him, wouldn’t speak to him again.  They would have been a little more tolerant of the idea if Flex hadn’t been Black but they couldn’t get it out of their minds that their friend, their paesano, was the bitch to a black guy.  It was beyond their comprehension that the two were far more than top and bottom, they were reciprocal, versatile lovers with no roles or labels. 

Copyright 2007 AfroerotiK

 Tired of seeing black women being portrayed as ghetto bitches, freaks and whores, and black men as barely literate thugs, bulls, and pimps, Scottie Lowe decided it was time to show black people in a positive sexual light. Ms. Lowe is the sole owner and founder of, a company dedicated to eradicating the negative and stereotypical depictions of Black sexuality and providing customized, personalized erotic stories for and about people of color.  Her innovative approach to writing Black erotica is shattering misperceptions and opening the doors to dialogue about subjects long considered taboo. 

Sunday, February 23, 2014

A Special Connection

Noah had struggled all of his life with issues of abandonment.  That was a pretty standard condition for people who had been adopted but he had made sincere efforts to address his concerns and unpack his baggage.  He hadn’t managed to establish a healthy, long term relationship in his 30 years of life but he was ever hopeful. 

The first and most important step in that journey toward wholeness was finding his birth mother.  It was a relatively easy process; she only lived less than two hours away for his entire life.  She had been looking for him just as he had been looking for her so it was a matter of signing the appropriate papers and waiting for the red tape to be cut by adoption agency personnel.  Their reunion had been awkward and rather uneventful.  They decided it would be best if they chose to meet their first time at her home to avoid any emotional outbursts at Olive Garden or some such place.  Noah’s heart was in his chest as he made his way to her front door.  There were still lots of unanswered questions and unresolved issues when the initial meeting was all said and done but Noah and Andrea were well on their way to establishing a healthy relationship and a good friendship.  Certainly, the rapport was there without much effort.  The age difference was minimal and Noah was awed at how at ease he felt with his birth mother and that their similarities.  Finding her had been one of the best things he’d ever done in his adult life, a step that would lead to closure for a lot of emotional triggers in his life that left him distancing himself from women.

As is the case with most busy singles, Noah had resorted to the internet to aid in finding love.  It was a viable option as any other in the day and age and he opted to use paid sites to week out the insincere and the fake.  There were very few sites like that that catered specifically to African Americans so he’d search to the top three dating sites to cast a wide net.  The $100 or so investment was well worth it if he could find his dream lady.  He was pretty aggressive in his search He had a list of criteria that was pretty extensive and there wasn’t much room for deviation.  She had to be a woman of color, intelligent, articulate, spiritual, affectionate, and exude sex appeal.  The other things were intangibles that would amount to chemistry and connection upon meeting.

Within 100 miles of San Francisco was a decent distance to travel to find his one true love.  As with many search options on dating sites, he had to expand some of his criteria in order to get a fair sampling of profiles returned.  Always having an attraction for older women and having exhausted profiles that were in his distance range, he expanded his age range to get a better selection of profiles.  Satisfied that 80 profiles would be enough to explore for the evening, he settled in to go over them with a fine tooth comb.  He had limited his search to profiles with pictures to prevent any time spent getting to know someone that he wasn’t physically attracted to and to save time for all involved. 

He hadn’t clicked on more than three or four profiles when fate would alter his reality forever.  “Degreed Blk Fem sks intimacy, communication, and passion,” read the headline.  Noah shook his head in disbelief and stared at the screen for a few minutes in a daze.  There was no mistake about it, no way to misconstrue that the profile belonged to Andrea, his birth mother.  He felt like he was invading her privacy and he closed the profile and moved on.  Distracted and shaken, he returned to her profile again, this time to explore every detail.

First, he looked at all the photos.  The album held five photos, all tasteful, all showing facets of a very beautiful woman.  Noah told himself that the man that got his mother as a partner would be a damn lucky man because there was not way to deny, even at 46, she was a breathtaking beauty that looked more than 10 years younger than her age.  Her delicious honey colored complexion was flawless and Noah marveled at the pictures, seeing his own complexion reflected in the womanly curves lady that gave birth to him.  He made note of the fact that none of the photos were vulgar but yet they all oozed sensuality.  She showed subtle flashes of leg, a rounded bare shoulder, even a sweet, casual shot that wasn’t glamorous at all but still showed off her natural beauty.  He wondered to himself what his reaction would have been had she had a nude photo of herself among her collection.  Noah rated her photos an A plus and went on to explore her profile more.

There was something a little uneasy for Noah to deal with and it was the activity in his pants.  He shook his head and made a conscious effort to focus on the computer screen and deny the fact that he had an erection had to do with a taboo that was almost too unthinkable to comprehend.  He adjusted himself and kept on, obsessed with finding out anything and everything he could about this mysterious woman to whom he was more connected than any other person on the planet but he knew so little about.  Even as he scrolled down the profile, he rationalized that there was probably some genetic DNA predisposition that was responsible for the fact that all the traits he sought in a woman, his mother possessed. 

When he got to the essay portion of the profile he swallowed hard and began reading.  She articulatey described herself and exactly what she was looking for in a man in detail.  She wrote, “I’m an accomplished, successful woman who is at a crossroads.  I need companionship and friendship with a partner that can allow me to explore my new found sexual liberation.  Understand that I’m not looking for someone to romance me and sweet me off my feet with little or no substance.  I need a man that can be open, a good listener, honest, available and accountable.  Once you’ve shown me that you are worthy of my heart, I’m looking to share my body with you in ways you probably can’t imagine.  There aren’t many men that meet my standards and this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to share a side of me that needs more exploration and expression.  Younger men are more than welcome to apply because I need a man that can keep up with my rather insatiable appetites.” 

By the time he finished reading, his dick was in his hand and he was stroking it furiously.  Her unapologetic yet sophisticated call for a lover to rock her world yet be more than a fuck toy, to actually be a man committed to the person not just the just package it came in, was arousing on so many levels he could barely control himself.  He jerked his hardness, reading the words over and over again.  He tried to imagine the unimaginable promises of pleasure Andrea had alluded to.  He called her name as he envisioned her satisfying herself in the absence of a man on the very couch they had shared tea when they met.  He imagined her sexy breasts glistening with sweat as he pounded her while she dug her nails into his back and screamed for more.  His cum erupted as he thought about it being deposited in the very womb that nurtured him for nine months. 

He awoke in the morning, hoping it had all been a nightmare.  Before his eyes were completely open, he sat in front of his computer screen and pulled the bookmarked profile up again.  He noticed that her last visit to the site was within the last 24 hours and he panicked.  What if she were to find his profile in the same way?  He immediately made his profile invisible to other viewers and went back to her profile again.  He pulled his semi erect dick out and picked up the phone.  He placed the call without even having a game plan in mind.  All he knew was he had to see her and soon.

They chatted and caught up in the uncomfortable way that only adoptive mother and son are prone to do.  “Listen, I don’t know if you are into this sort of thing but I was hoping you might want to join me next Saturday and go to the Crocker Art Museum.  I’ve exhausted all the museums in the Bay area and I couldn’t think of coming to Sacramento without seeing if you would like to join me . . . If you are into that sort of thing,” he said, knowing full well that she was.  He played on her emotions by adding, “It would make me so happy to be able to share what I love the most with the most special woman in the world to me,” his comment had many more layers and implications than Andrea could comprehend. 

Andrea, wanting to be open to any hand of civility her son extended to her, accepted before he could finish his little speech but Noah hadn’t heard her.  She let him finish and repeated her answer, adding that she was flattered that he would ask her and how grateful she was that he didn’t hate her.  There was a long moment of silence on the phone as the two dealt with their own adoptive demons. 

They made plans for him to come there and pick her up next weekend and she even invited him to spend the night in her spare bedroom if it got too late to drive back.  Noah hung up the phone and shot off another load within seconds of doing so.  What had he just done?  More importantly, what was he going to do?  He hadn’t even planned it out thoroughly; he was going on pure adrenaline and lust.

Over the course of the next few days, Noah tried desperately to purge himself of sexual thoughts of Andrea.  He rationalized that most teenage boys had at least a masturbatory fantasy or two about their mothers.  It had to be some sort on rite of passage or some natural occurrence in nature, he was just going through his later in life, and it would certainly pass.  All week long he would read her profile over and over again, at work, at home; he had even printed it out and memorized every detail, justifying it as a way to get to know this very intimate stranger.

The drive to Sacramento seemed to take forever.  He turned up his music loudly and he and Tupac lamented over the trials and tribulations of being a black man in a society that wanted to keep them oppressed.  He tried to ignore the constant dull ache in his nuts and half hard dick he would get occasionally but the closer he got to her house, the more he let himself fantasize about being the man Andrea called her man.  Hell, except for that pesky little fact that she had given birth to him; he was exactly what she was looking for and vice versa.  They shared the same likes and dislikes, predilections and preferences, and they were both in need of the same type of relationship. 

He knocked on the door but he hadn’t prepared for what he saw when it opened.  Andrea was dressed in a sexy black dress with thin spaghetti straps and a low cut v-neck that showed off just the right amount of cleavage.  The dress hugged her toned, athletic body perfectly.  She wore a pair of sexy, stiletto heels that showed off the blood red nail polish that accentuated her perfectly pedicured toes.

Noah stood speechless for a moment unable to speak.  Andrea, sensing some tension, panicked and said, “Oh, I’m overdressed aren’t I?  I have been trying to figure out what to wear for an hour.  I’ll go change.”  With that, she turned towards her bedroom.  Noah grabbed her hand and stopped her. 

“No, what you are wearing is fine, you look beautiful.”  The heat of her hand in his burned his flesh as he felt himself becoming completely erect

“I really do appreciate you offering to take an old woman like me to the museum today.  I’m appreciative of any time I can get to spend with my favorite boy,” as she patted his cheek gently. Noah’s heart did a back flip, hearing words that gave him more comfort than he’d ever known before.  “Well, let me go get my wrap and we’ll be off.  Does that sound okay?”  Noah nodded in silence and tried to adjust himself so that his throbbing erection couldn’t be seen as she walked away. 

The two made a striking couple.  There was no way in hell anyone could tell that they were mother and son, Andrea only looking four or five years older than Noah at the most.  Granted she was just barely 16 years older but Noah had dated women that had looked and been older than she in his lifetime.  He held the door for her as she got in and out of his truck held her by the small of her back as they strolled among the artwork.  They started to let their guards down and they seemed more at ease with each other than one would imagine.  Their tastes in artwork were similar and they shared more information about each other in an effort to catch up on lost time.  They both liked the same movies, they both had a love of travel and had been to some of the same places and had even stayed in the same hotel in Paris, twenty years apart.  Noah could not stop looking at Andrea and he was more and more curious about the sexual beast that lurked inside her that she alluded to in her profile. 

They had stopped strolling around and sat on the bench and were deep in conversation.  Noah had placed his arm around her shoulder and Andrea had responded by turning her body completely towards him and resting her hand on his thigh.  Another black couple, obviously deeply in love, strolled by hand in hand.  The woman made eye contact with Andrea and gave the universal sista look of, “Go ahead, Stella, do your thing.”  The couple stopped and the woman turned back and said, “Isn’t love wonderful?  You two look beautiful together.”

Both Andrea and Noah panicked and pulled away from each other.  They both mumbled thank you and awkwardly stood to leave.  The couple apologized for interrupting, aware that they had caused some sort of disruption in the flow of things and went on about their business.

“I think it’s time to go, we’ve seen all we can see here.”  Andrea held her eyes to the floor and had lost some of the joy in her voice. 

Noah, not ready to end the evening, tried his best to salvage the chemistry that had been interrupted.  “Andrea, you are a vibrant and beautiful lady.  I’m sure that’s not the last time someone will mistake you for my date.  Listen, it’s still early, what do you say that I take my favorite lady out for dinner?”  They both smiled and got a little teary and took a deep breath at the same time. 

Andrea smiled and sunk back into the level of comfort and ease that they had shared before the interruption.  The place she chose for dinner was a small, intimate restaurant that was perfect for lovers.  For a brief second, Noah allowed himself to contemplate that the sexual attraction he felt for Andrea might be reciprocal.  He held her chair out and took her wrap.  He “accidentally” caressed her smooth shoulders, or at least he hoped that it had seemed accidental.  Once seated he quickly placed the napkin in his lap to hide the protruding appendage that threatened to betray his deepest desires. 

Noah ordered a bottle of wine rather than a glass, hoping that the beverage would loosen both their inhibitions and lead to a more intimate connection.  The waiter, also assuming they were lovers, or soon to be lovers, poured on the charm and suggested the most romantic dining suggestions, finger foods for appetizers that could be fed to one another, entrées that could be shared, and decadent desserts.  After the first glass of wine, Andrea had relaxed sufficiently to let her guard down and she was becoming openly flirtatious with Noah.  Noah didn’t miss a beat and started going into full mack mode.  He was versed in how to make a woman feel like the center of the universe and he was pulling out all the stops.  They conversed freely about music and art and politics and eventually the conversation got around to dating.  Andrea listened intently as Noah confessed with bitter honesty his adulterous, playboy past and his longing and desire to connect to “the one” and how she had remained so elusive in his life.  Andrea was tortured with guilt at being the reason Noah felt so alone in his life and she reached out to embrace him in her arms. 

Noah felt her touch and sunk gently into it from an emotional level.  He had craved that sensation, that feeling of safety and comfort that only a mother’s loving embrace could provide.  If only the woman providing that sensation wasn’t biologically linked to him he would be in heaven.  Andrea, feeling the need to open up, shared the secrets of her emotional past as well.  She spoke about looking for love and how she had come up short time and time again.  She revealed that she was looking for a person to stimulate her mind and spirit first and that would be the impetus to transcendental love making.  The wine had loosened her inhibitions and she was having a conversation that she normally would have thought was a tad inappropriate.  She placed her hand on Noah’s lap, dangerously close to his dick and kept on with her revelations, perhaps oblivious because of the slight buzz she was feeling.  Andrea could no longer deny the attraction and she downed another glass of wine and relegated herself to the fact that she was involved in a dance of seduction that had horrific implications.  Her body was betraying her mind.  Her nipples protruded brazenly from her dress and her clit was throbbing to the point of distraction.  She excused herself to go to the ladies room and wipe away some of the moisture that had collected between her legs lest he smell her arousal at the table. 

When she returned, Noah had paid the bill and was holding her wrap for her.  They made the trip back to her home in virtual silence, not daring to speak, both afraid of what was happening.  He pulled into the driveway of her home and came around to open the door for her.  She gently placed her hand in his as she stepped down and they both stood inches apart from one another, the electricity between them could light up a stadium it was so strong.  She tried to say something about, “thank you for a wonderful day,” and her words were cut off with a passionate kiss that took her breath away.  Noah had lost his resolve to keep his fantasy to himself and he kissed the woman that was the focus of all of his desire.  He pulled her body to his tightly and ran his hands over her ass.  He thrust his dick against her body and started grinding on her.  She responded in kind, holding his face in her soft hands and sucking his tongue sensuously, wrapping her arms around his neck.  He picked her up and placed her back on the seat of his truck and she wrapped her legs around him as he began to slide his hands up the smooth skin of her thigh.  They kissed more passionately this time. 

“No, stop, we can’t do this!”  Andrea grabbed his hand and stopped him. 

Feeling profound shame, Noah backed off and started to hyperventilate.  Had he destroyed the relationship he had only just started with his birth mother?  He started to mumble an apology when Andrea stopped him.  “We can’t do this here.  Let’s go inside.”

She grabbed him by the hand and tilted his face to hers.  She looked him in the eyes as they kissed again.  She climbed down from the truck and held his hand as they made their way to the front door.  Once inside, she kept the lights off and felt Noah’s presence behind her.  He pulled her wrap from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.  He caressed her bare shoulder and kissed it softly.  She leaned back into him and rubbed her ass sensuously against his dick.  Gentle moans escaped her lips as his hands roamed freely over her sides, gripping her hips tightly. 

“God, I want this, I want you.”  Noah was in a fog of lust.  Everything about the woman before him was what he had been searching for.  He felt driven to experience all that she had to offer, not just sexually but emotionally as well.  He wanted his Mommy to love him, in every way possible. 

Andrea turned to face Noah and she kissed him with more passion than she had thought possible just a few hours earlier.  She was driven by this insane lust of the taboo and the fact that she had an attraction to a man that she had carried inside her for nine months.  She reached for his crotch and felt the evidence of his lust for her.  She kissed and nibbled on his neck and whispered in his ear that they should make it to the bedroom to get more comfortable. 

For a brief second, things were awkward again.  Andrea made her way around the bedroom and lit candles while Noah stood and watched.  He wondered if he shouldn’t just stop things where they were and go home; perhaps they could pretend that none of this ever happened.  Ignorance is bliss so they say.  The precum dripping from the head of his dick was motivation enough for him to erase all those sorts of thoughts from his mind. 

Andrea stood before him and lowered the straps to her dress.  She stood in her high heels and a pair of black satin panties and Noah had to swallow hard to keep from slamming her hard on the bed and taking her without any foreplay at all.  He wanted her to exploit his fantasies; to highlight his fantasies of being a little boy that Mommy was teaching how to be naughty.  He had engaged in role-play like that many times before with other women in similar ways but this was about to take on whole new dimensions.  He wondered if pushing the issue would cause her to panic and back out of the situation so he kept his silence. 

There was little reason to do so.  Andrea was like a woman possessed, loving every aspect of the mother/son incest and she was tipsy enough to let go of whatever inhibitions she might have had.  She lay back on the bed and spread her legs.  She rubbed her pussy through the thin material and slid her hands inside to put on a show for Noah.  She told him to get undressed and she fingered herself while he revealed the perfect sculpted body of a man half her age.  He stepped out of his boxer briefs and she started fucking herself that much harder, sliding her panties down to get better access and to show off her aroused and shaved cunt to her sweet baby boy. 

Without saying a word, Noah climbed on top of Andrea and started kissing her passionately.  She wrapped her arms and legs around him and explored his mouth with passion.  She could feel his erection sliding between her legs as his mouth explored her neck and she was moaning very loudly.  Noah could feel the softness of her breasts crushed against him and the hardness of her nipples pressed against his chest.  There was no mistaking the fact that his dick was rubbing the wet slit of her pussy and he could feel her aroused clit rubbing on the length of his hardness.  The heat emanating from her core was like a furnace and she was becoming more and more vocal as things got more and more heated. 

“Oh, your dick is so big,” she moaned and she reached for it to put her delicate hands around it and stroke it. 

Noah almost came right then and right there.  It felt so good that he needed to think about Stock Market futures in order to keep from losing his nut.  He began kissing his way down her body to the place that was the single focus of his desire, her breasts.  He looked Andrea deeply in her eyes as he lowered his mouth to her hardened nipple.  There was a soundtrack of ooohh’s, and ahhhh’s and mmmm’s as he began sucking her titties.  The softness of her boobs was pleasure untold for Noah and when she grabbed his head and said, “Oh you make Mommy feel so good,” he almost lost it. 

In a voice that didn’t sound like his own and was decidedly adolescent, Noah said, “Does Mommy like when I suck on her titties like that?” 

Andrea, fully into the forbidden lovemaking, responded knowing full well where this was going to go.  “Yes, sweetie, Mommy loves when you suck on my hard titties like that. Drink Mommy’s milk baby, my titties are so swollen and full.  Do you like when Mommy feeds you like that?” 

Noah was outside of himself.  He was in a realm of arousal he’d never experienced before.  “Yes, Mommy, I love sucking your titties.  I love doing anything that makes you feel good Mommy.  I just want to make you happy.”

Andrea cradled Noah’s head and reinforced that Noah was a very good boy for making his Mommy feel good.  His mouth went from nipple to nipple and Andrea’s moans got louder and louder.  She was chanting, “Oh yeah, suck my titties baby, drink mama’s milk, oh, fuck that feels so good.”

“Mama, you said a bad word!”  Noah could barely believe how easily his role as pubescent boy came in the arms of the woman that gave birth to him. 

“Yes, sweetie, it’s okay.  Grownups are allowed to say bad words when they have their clothes off like this.  It makes it feel better.”

“Mommy, can I say those words too?  Am I a big boy Mama?” 

“What words do you know, sweetie?  Who taught you those naughty words?” 

“At school, some of the boys say, you know, stuff.  And one time I. . .”  His voice trailed off.

“What is it dear?  You can tell Mommy, I promise I won’t be mad.”  Andrea stroked his hair and soothed his pretend fears. 

“One time I watched you and Daddy playing when you were naked and lying down.  He said a lot of naughty words.”  His eyes got big like he was telling a secret, fully aware that they hadn’t even discussed who his biological father had been up until that point. 

By this time, Andrea was holding her breasts up for Noah and making him suck them harder and harder, thrashing around on the bed and consumed with the fantasy of sexing up her adolescent son when it was in fact her thirty something son.  It was the fulfillment of her dirtiest desires, desires she hadn’t really contemplated as real because she never thought of finding her son, she had assumed she would go her entire life with no knowledge of what happened to him, how he turned out.  Until that day in her life, she felt relatively safe that her mother/son fantasies were harmless fun between her and her very adult lovers. 

“Mommy, I feel funny . . . down there.”  Noah pointed to the erection that was leaking and he grabbed its full length like only he knew how to do and forced out more precum.  There was no way his enormous prick could be mistaken for a child’s. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, you can use the grown up word for it.  Mommy likes when you use the dirty words.”  Andrea was so turned on, more than she had ever been before in her life and it scared her a little to think of how far she would go in her lust.

Noah said, “Oh Mama, my dick is sooo hard.  Do you like my big dick?” 

Andrea reached between his legs and felt the hefty organ that was engorged with blood.  “By all means, Mommy loves your big, hard dick.  It makes Mommy’s pussy really wet.  Mommy wants to suck that big, fat dick.  Come here and let me put it in my mouth.”

“Oh Mommy! Are you sure?”

Noah rolled over and lay back on the bed.  Andrea wasted no time in getting between his legs and giving him head like he’d literally never had before in his life.  She grabbed his erection and started stroking it, making it leak more precum.  She licked the salty treat and told him how good he tasted.  She took the head in her mouth and swirled her tongue around it and Noah could barely control himself.  She went down on it slowly, licking and sucking with painstaking precision.  She was getting every inch wet with her mouth and tongue and sucking it expertly with her lips.  She swallowed the entire shaft and Noah made a sound that he’d never heard before.  Andrea was moaning and slobbering all over his dick like a cock craved whore and fingering her pussy at the same time.  Noah, with the awareness of a grown man, grabbed her and made her stop because he knew all too well that a few more minutes of exceptional head like that would make him shoot his load and he definitely wanted to wait.

Andrea wanted more.  She wanted to taste her son’s cum and she wasn’t ready to stop.    She was looking him in his eyes and asking him if he liked it.  Noah was out of his mind, it was sensory overload.  She focused on sucking the engorged vein on the underside of his dick and it allowed him to calm down enough to regain normal control of his breathing.  The room was spinning and it felt like it was 100 degrees in there.  She started humming on his dick, sending vibrations up his spine and talking dirty.  It was the wanton slut of his dreams, intelligent, sophisticated, beautiful, sexy and desperate for cum. 

“You like Mommy’s mouth on your hard cock?  Use those nasty words you know, treat Mommy like a filthy whore, it makes mommy feel good when you say nasty things to her like a big boy.” 

Noah was ready to explode and they went past the stage of pretending, it was mother who got off on giving her son nasty pleasure and a son who desperately wanted to fuck his mother.  He grabbed her head and started moving it up and down on his dick, fucking her throat.  Andrea didn’t miss a beat and she gagged a little but it only seemed to inspire her to be that much nastier.  It seemed she couldn’t get it wicked enough, she was in a zone where she wanted to be debased and used like a cheap whore, with her flesh and blood baby boy.  She was deep throating him and stroking him and licking his balls.  The raunchier she got, the more she needed verbal stimulation. 

“Come on you fucking cunt, suck my fat dick.  Show me what a slut you are for that fuck meat in your slutty mouth.  Choke on your son’s hard dick bitch.  Look at you, you fucking filthy cocksucker.  Suck my god damn cum out of my big hairy balls.  Lick that fuck tool real good and get it nice and wet so I can ram it in your wet pussy.  Yeah, your little boy is going to fuck you senseless.  Is that what you want?  You want your son to ram his big hard dick in you so hard you scream like it’s going to rip you apart?  What sort of nasty whore gets off on sucking her sons big hard dick?  Am I going to have to leave money by the bed you fucking nasty hooker?  Maybe I’ll bring all my friends by and let them take turns using your body and they can pay me for the chance to ram their big black dicks in every hole in your body.  You like that you dirty slut?”

Andrea wasn’t satisfied, she wanted more and she wasn’t afraid to go for it.  She was inspired by the fact that she had crossed a line that was so forbidden, so taboo, that she had never been so turned on in her life.  She was in a sexual fog, a lust inspired by this incredibly sexy man that she was with and knowing that she had birthed him through the pussy that was now soaking wet and screaming for him to fuck her.  “No, I want more.  I want to show you how REALLY nasty mommies behave.”  She got between his legs and lifted them up.  Noah held them open, knowing what was going to happen but not sure he could believe it.  He knew that the long drive to Sacramento made his crack ripe with fragrance and Andrea seemed to not notice or care one little bit.  She seemed to delight in looking at the brown hole and Noah was pushing out, making it open and close for her.  “Oooooh, talk really, really dirty to Mommy, make me feel like a nasty whore.” 

Noah didn’t hesitate for a second.    “Oh yeah, eat my dirty shithole. Stick your tongue in there and lick it out good, Get it nice and clean like a good mommy should.  Taste that hole where you little boy takes hot smelly shits and lick it good and deep.” 

She didn’t waste a second and started licking and kissing and sucking his brown hole.  There weren’t many things Noah loved more than a tongue in his ass and he was grinding his ass on her face and pulling his cheeks apart so she could get deep.  Andrea looked up at him and stared straight in his eyes as she said, “Mmmm, I love the way your shithole tastes.  I’m licking the tip of your sexy turd with my tongue.  It makes my pussy so wet to know that I’m being such a dirty mommy for my baby.  You won’t tell anyone, will you, that Mommy likes licking your poop hole?  Mommy could get in big trouble if anyone found out that we do naughty things together.  You have to promise to keep it a secret.”  Then she went back to her feast, sucking Noah’s asshole like a woman possessed.  Noah had never been hornier in his entire life.  The filthy nature of her words and actions, he thought, was the way sex was supposed to be: primal and raw, animalistic and dirty.  He was in sexual nirvana.  He held his legs wider as he enjoyed the sensation of his sexy mother making a feast of his shitpipe. 

Andrea loved every second of it and she wanted more.  This was the treatment she’d been craving, being treated like a depraved and perverted whore and who better to do that than her own child?  She held his asscheeks apart and blew air directly up his ass.  Noah moaned in pleasure at the nastiness of it all and in return he farted foul smelling air back in his mother’s mouth.  Andrea breathed in the stench like it was a dozen long stemmed roses and went back to trying to suck the shit out of Noah’s asshole, figuratively of course.  Noah had to stop for a minute and wonder exactly what sort of limits his mother had if any and the idea of how filthy could get almost made him work a load up from his nuts. 

Andrea worked a finger up Noah’s asshole and he screamed out in pleasure and begged her to do it harder.  “Mmmm, my little boy has the makings of a faggot I see.  You like having things shoved up your slutty boy pussy?  Maybe you are Mommy’s nasty little girl?”  Noah was fucking her fingers back, trying to get them deeper, inspired by her implications. 

Truth was, he loved getting a hard dick shoved in his ass by a real man every once in a while.  He loved the fact that his mother was calling him a dirty faggot and he was inspired to give back to her the level of arousal he felt.   “You fucking shit whore, finger and suck my dirty trench and maybe I’ll give you what you are digging for.”   The sexiness and the foul words had his dick harder than Chinese Calculus and leaking precum like a faucet.  The smell of his mother’s wet pussy in the air was making him crazed.  “Is my Mommy a nasty toilet mouth?  Does my Mommy want her baby boy to go potty in her raunchy mouth?” 

This was going too far for both of them.  It was unexplored territory and they were both on a sex high that was like no place they had ever gone; only dreamt about.  It was pure, unbridled, uninhibited sex with someone that you trust completely.  Granted, there’s was a trust that defied rational thought.  They were linked genetically but they hadn’t known each other more than 12 hours total.  Noah sat up and forcefully flipped Andrea on her back.  He climbed on top of her and kissed her deeply, tasting the ass slime on her tongue, sharing a kiss with his butt juices.  “Now, it’s my turn.  I’m going to make you cum so hard you piss on yourself, got it?” 

“Don’t threaten me little boy.  Mommy just might piss in your mouth to teach you a lesson.” 

He got between her legs and stared at the place he came from.  He knew he had to squeeze off a load before he fucked her or else he would nut too damn quickly when he finally rammed himself in her.  He started eating her pussy and stroking his dick.  Andrea was giving direction, inspiring him, telling him how much she loved his mouth on her wet pussy.  He returned the favor and licked and sucked her asshole with equal enthusiasm and they sunk to new depths of depravity and filth.  He shot his load on her feet and licked it off before going back to sucking her clit to orgasm.  Andrea was grabbing the sheets and screaming bloody murder, her inhibitions had disappeared like David Blaine on a HBO special.  Noah hadn’t even gotten soft, he was so aroused and so out of control. 

Andrea reached her first orgasm of the night and she planned on having a few more before it was all over.  She turned over and got up on her hands and knees and looked back over her shoulder.  “Fuck me!” 

There was no need for the mother/son reference because she was a woman that needed to get fucked by a man.  She was desperate to feel every inch of that hard meet rammed in her cunt walls and she needed him to do it hard and fast and rough.  He grabbed her hair and pulled it like reigns on a philly.  She responded by chanting, “Fuck me, fuck me, NOW!”

Noah took careful aim.  He lined up the fat head of his dick with her hole.  He grabbed her hips and with one fluid, fast motion, he rammed the entire length of his dick deep in her uterus.  She screamed out in pain, but only the sort of pain that ushers in the greatest of pleasure.  For a brief moment, they slipped into a zone of familiarity and peace.  Neither of them had ever experienced such profound love before.  Noah was experiencing maternal love and Andrea had found the peace she’d given up 30 years ago.  Their union was symbolic of the truly forbidden and the transcendent.

Noah began fucking Andrea with the force and the stamina that he would fuck a man and she took it all and begged for more.  He worked his thumb up her ass and she started using her muscles to coax out another load of cum.  If he hadn’t busted off one earlier, that would have been the end of him but he held on tight.  He started smacking that ass and reached around to her breasts.  He pulled her tits and twisted them in his fingers and she encouraged him to do it harder.  “Pull my fucking nipples you dirty mother fucker.  Make them hurt.  Slap them. Ohhh, it feels so good.”

Andrea was fucking him back extraordinarily hard, grunting and snorting like a crazed animal.  “Baby, Mama needs what every filthy slut can’t get enough of.  Mama needs you to fuck her in her nasty asshole. Please?”

Noah almost came again.  It was a journey to heaven and he was still on earth.  He pulled out of her pussy and saw her juices all over his erection.  She had taken his finger with no problem so he spit on her asshole and started to work more fingers in.  “Damn you Noah, ram it in there and make it hurt.  I don’t want you to give a damn about me, use my asshole, rip it apart.  Shoot your cum deep in my bowels.  Make me cum from dicking my shithole and then make me lick your dirty dick clean.”

“You fucking bitch, you asked for it.  I don’t want you to complain one little bit that it hurts either.  You better beg for more. I want you screaming and begging me to fuck the shit out of you, for me to never stop, you hear?”

“What are you waiting for?  Slam it up my ass.  Fuck your whore mother in her backdoor.  What’s the matter?  Afraid my tight little ass will make you nut too fast in my horny anus?  Yeah, it takes a real man to handle a hot, sexy hole like this, not a little boy.” 

The head of Noah’s dick didn’t even look like it could fit in such a small space.  He held his dick still as he pushed the tip in.  Andrea gasped for air and gripped the sheets tightly, sweat was forming on her body and she was in agony and ecstasy.  The sensation of Andrea’s tight ass ring on the shaft of his member was so intense, he was sweating trying to work all 9 inches in and he didn’t understand who she could even take it all.  She reached for lube on the nightstand and tossed it back to him.  He flipped the top open and poured half the bottle on her asshole and it dripped on his balls, her pussy, the bed, everywhere.  Andrea took control and started fucking him back.  “Oh Daddy, fuck my naughty asshole, make me a bad girl Daddy.”  Obviously roles were irrelevant at that point.  All that really mattered was pleasure. 

Noah grabbed her hips and started pounding.  Andrea lowered her head and stuck her ass up in the air so the last few inches could get the right angle and sink deep in her colon.  Noah could smell the earthy, strong aroma of ass fucking and it was intoxicating.  Brown streaks were coating his dick and Andrea was moaning loader, begging for it harder.  Ass fucking was supposed to be dirty and primal and filthy in every way and Andrea and Noah were two untamed wild animals that were lost in debauchery and pleasure.  Andrea had craved the sensation of losing herself to a man completely and it was in that moment, when the head of his dick was pounding into the tip of her butt sludge and she was craving more degradation and humiliation that she started to cum.  It was a mental orgasm, a freedom from society and rules and inhibitions. 

“Oh baby, Mommy is going to cum.  You are fucking the shit out of me and I don’t care. Look at how disgusting I am.  I’m not even telling you to stop.  Shoot your cum deep in me.  Empty your nuts in my heiney precious.  Make me shit out your baby juice all night long.”

Noah grabbed her hip and started ramming himself deeper and harder, practically ramming Andrea’s head in the wall.  “OHHHH FUCK!  Take it whore, take my load.”  He collapsed on top of her and drifted in and out of consciousness for a few moments.  Andrea cradled and comforted him as they fell asleep from exhaustion.

Noah awoke in the early morning hours, shaking his head for clarity and trying to recollect what had happened, hoping it had all been a dream.  Andrea was there, awake as well, this time to comfort him and reassure him that everything would be okay.  They’d gone places mother and son shouldn’t go.  They had explored depths from which there was no turning back.  “Mom . . . I . . . “

Andrea held her fingers to his lips.  “Son, we have the entire rest of our lives to figure out how to make sense of all this.  I promise, I’m not going to leave you again, even if things are difficult.” 

Copyright 2005 AfroerotiK